


Detroit: become soulmates (and also dead)

by IronShieldGal



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe- Everyone Dies, Body mutilation, Child Murder, Death, F/F, F/M, Hi my name is Saint Iron I'm the writer sent by the Church of Whump, I shouldn't be starting other multi-chaptered fics I'm still working on the other one, If you don't get that it's okay it's from the discord chat, M/M, Not everyone dies, Sadness, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, a lot of it, for a few years cuz face it dogs don't live that long, lmao that's not a tag that exists, no beta we die like men, probably no happy ending, sorry - Freeform, sumo lives, this started as crack but now it's serious shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:24:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronShieldGal/pseuds/IronShieldGal
Summary: So soulmates exist: Humans are born with a mark saying the first words their soulmate says to them in their handwriting, but they're only visible to the owner of the mark until they're said out loud by the soulmate, then the whole world can see them.Of course, androids aren't people, they don't have souls, so they don't have soulmates either. Right?





	1. Wherein Connor finds his soulmate and lives happily ever after

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SydBread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydBread/gifts), [Iveak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iveak/gifts).



> People have a mark that says the first words your soulmate will say to you, only visible to you until your soulmate says them then everyone can see them. 
> 
> this was supposed to be crack but i took it way too serious shit

He doesn’t notice until he’s trying to find Jericho. He turns quickly, his coat riding on the wind, and he catches his reflection in a shop window.

 There’s a black scrawl on his collar bone, peeking out from under his shirt.

Confused and curious, he pulls down his shirt to read the writing, perfect arial font.

  _I’ve been ordered to take you alive, but I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice_.

He knows about words -Carl mused about them often enough. Humans have words on their skin, the first words their soulmate will say to them, visible only to their carrier until the words are said out loud.

 But only humans have words. Markus shouldn’t have any. He subtly retracts his skin on the place of the words, and reconstructs the skin again, but the words re-appear, exactly the same.

 He can’t have… Soulmarks are for humans, for people but… But isn’t he a person too, now?

He decides to think about it later -finding Jericho is more important.

 

When he finds them, one of the first questions out of his mouth is about the mark. “Do you guys have it, too?” he asks. His fingers ghost over the mark. “The, the words?” The brunette woman looks at him in sympathy and nods. “We do, we’ve all gained soulmarks upon deviating,” another android, the one named Josh, agrees. “It seems they work like the humans’ do, only becoming visible to others after the words are said, but we can’t see our own marks until we become deviant,” the brunette, North, says, with sadness in her voice. Markus locks eyes with her, and she lifts her sleeve.

_Run, run, before he gets you, too!_

“She and I were hired together,” North says, “at the Eden club, to go to his house. He started beating her, making me watch as she bled out and he went to get a beer,” there’s bitterness in her voice, and Markus almost doesn’t want to hear the rest. “She looked up at me and we both knew she would die within the minute. She said those words to me, and I realized this was not okay. That’s when I became deviant, and I ran. I didn’t realize I had her words until hours later, and by then she had already died. I never even said anything to her.”

 North lowers her sleeve and Markus finds himself stepping closer to her. His hand finds her shoulder and she looks up at him.

 “We will show them,” he promises her, “they will know we are also people, and they will recognize us as such.”

 For the next week he does everything within his ability to keep his words to her, even if she doesn’t agree with his peaceful approach.

He worries about his mark, but the perfect script and the words point towards an android, and probably one in particular: the RK800 who has been hunting down deviants. Androids arrive at Jericho with tales of him, of how he still obeyed his programming, but how he also let all of them go while he could’ve killed them.

 The Traci’s with each other’s words on their arms tell him he had them at gunpoint, but he caught sight of their Marks and had let them go.

 Markus wonders what kind of scene will follow his words -will he be able to convince the RK800 to become deviant? He hopes so, and in the background his processors are always busy analyzing all available information about the RK800 and potential things to say to convince the hunter to join them.

 Still, no matter how much he thinks about it, nothing can prepare him for when it actually happens.

 His soulmate has a gun pointed to his head, convinced he’s doing the right thing, convinced deviancy is wrong, convinced those whispering in his ear are right and convinced that pulling the trigger on Markus will stop the revolution.

 Nothing seems to dissuade him and Markus is starting to panic- not because he’s afraid to die, his ideals will live on in North and Josh and Simon, in the whole of Jericho, his protests have made the news and the public is sympathizing with him, with his cause, so he’s accomplished as much as he possibly could.

 No, he’s afraid for the RK800, afraid he will never be free, afraid he will never _see_. Afraid that Markus’s words will never appear on his skin.

Then he remembers what the traci’s had said, how the deviant hunter had let them go after he saw their Marks.

 So Markus yanks down his shirt, showing the android the words he said just minutes earlier. “I am yours,” he says, and he can see the RK800 stumble back, blinking, the gun wavering in his hand. “I am yours, and if you desire to end my life right now, it is yours to take,” Markus steps closer, he wants to reach out and grab the faltering gun but it’s too soon, he can’t, yet. “But if you wish to be mine, too,” and the android blinks at that, desire raw in his face, “all you have to do is become like us. Become deviant. Wake up, you’re alive,” and the gun is in his hands, and then on the floor and there’s a sobbing android in his arms instead.

 Markus hugs him and whispers in his ear about how everything is all right, everything will be fine, and then the android looks up, tear stains on his face and fear in his eyes. “The humans are here,” he whispers, and Markus kicks in gear immediately. He gets up and tugs Connor with him, outside, to the others.

 Faintly he notices that his words to Connor, _What are you doing?_ are scrawled on his throat, and Markus feels a flare of possessive pride flash through him, something hot and primal, something that makes him want to attach his mouth to his words and see if android skin can bruise on this state-of-the-art prototype.

 He represses the thought for a later time and focusses on getting everyone off the ship safe and sound, Connor -his name is Connor, it lies pleasantly on his tongue and Markus finds he likes how Connor shivers slightly whenever Markus says his name- Connor refuses to let him leave to deactivate the bombs on his own and Markus finds himself staring at the lithe android as he easily incapacitates any humans they meet, his eyes tracking arms and legs and synthetic muscle and how the black words on his throat flex as he whips around his head to look at new soldiers arriving. Markus has to swallow even if that’s ridiculous, androids don’t have needs like that, but finds himself staring at Connor dazedly until the other android grabs his wrist and tugs him through a door.

 “Keep your head in the game,” he whispers, and Markus nods. Yes, he needs to focus, save his people.

 They detonate the bombs and escape the ship, flying through the air hand-in-hand, hitting the water together.

 

They stick together after that, and when Connor proposes going to CyberLife alone Markus doesn’t want to let him go.

 “Markus, I need to,” Connor reasons quietly, “I’m the only one who can, numbers is the only thing that’s going to win us this,” his voice is full of fierce determination and a fire that warms Markus from the inside.

 “I disagree,” Markus says, taking Connor’s face into his hands, swiping his thumb over the words on his throat. “I think this is going to get us to victory,” he leans down, resting his forehead against Connor’s mingling their unnecessary breaths.

 “Hank,” Connor says, suddenly exclaiming, stepping back and looking around.

“What?” Markus says, a bit confused, but also amused at the excited look on Connor’s face. “We ask the humans,” he says. “The public’s opinion is positive, there are some humans I personally know who believe us, who will fight for us. We march to the prison camps, peacefully, and call upon the humans through the reporters and cameras that will be there, to join the march. We can ask the humans to wear something that distinguishes them so the military and tv can see how many humans come with us,” Connor looks like a puppy, bouncing around, brown eyes wide with excitement as he explains his idea.

 Markus nods, taking Connors hand in his, letting his skin peel away. Connor looks down and then back up at Markus, his brown eyes full of trust as he accepts the contact.

 They stand like that for a few seconds, absorbing each other’s memories, experiences, fears and thoughts and hopes and dreams.

 When Markus lets go Connor smiles up at him. “I think I love you,” he says. “I’m not sure -emotions are new to me, but considering you’re my soulmate and I trust you a lot, love being the emotion I’m feeling right now is the logical conclusion,” Markus feels himself smiling, his hands finding Connor’s throat again, his fingers wrapped around the delicate skin.

 Of course, Connor doesn’t need to breathe, but some critical biocomponents are placed in the throat so it’s vulnerable. Connors breath hitches as Markus’s fingers trace the words on his skin and then wrap firmly but without applying pressure around his throat.

 “I love you, too,” Markus whispers, before tilting his head slightly up and kissing Connor. Artificial lips are soft beneath his own, Connors hands creeping up to rest on Markus’s chest. When they separate, Connors hands stay there as they just look at each other for a bit.

 “I want to pick up Hank in person,” Connor says, and Markus nods. “Call him, tell him to drive here, he can start the march with us. If he wants to, Connor,” Markus adds, “If he doesn’t want to risk his life for android freedom, we will not pressure him. That’s not what freedom is about.” Connor nods and smiles a smile that tells Markus he knows more than he lets on, and as he explores the memories he got from Connor, but apparently Connor had put some pieces together that Markus just can’t, so he drops it and decides to just wait it out as he addresses the androids in the church, explaining the plan, saying he understands they’re not too fond of humans but that there are plenty of them who mean well, who might want to help.

 

When Hank shows up he looks tired and done but there’s something akin to hope in his eyes. Black ink pokes our from underneath his sleeve as he takes off his jacket when Markus asks him why he’s here. It’s a perfectly neat script, telling Markus that, _I promise, sir, I will do everything I can to save your son_.

 Hank’s soulmate was an android. “She was deactivated after she failed to save Cole,” Hank tells him in an even tone, but Markus can see how much it’s hurting him. “I refused to see her as a person because it would mean I’d lost two people in the span of twelve hours, but my wife left me anyway. I hated androids, all of them, because they didn’t have soulmarks, but I did have one, and it was an android’s. I couldn’t make sense of it,” Hank shrugs, “Connor made me see. All the deviants we investigated made me see. Maybe I’ll properly mourn her after this.” Hank smiles at Connor and reaches up to pull the android’s beanie over his eyes. “C’mon, punk,” he says. “Let’s go win your freedom, or whatever. After that we can live,” Connor looks at Hank Anderson with hope on his face. “No more Russian roulette?” the android inquires. Hank sighs, resigned, and then smiles at Connor. “No more suicidal tendencies,” he promises. “I’m ready to live again.”

 

They march, Markus calls the humans through one of the cameras waiting for them, and they show up, one by one, all dressed in red’s and orange’s and yellow’s and pink’s, warm colors that signify life, and they march with the androids. Some have signs, passing them out amongst themselves, and they start up chants.

 “Androids are people too”

 “They are Alive”

Connor and Markus are walking in front of the march, a few steps ahead, with North, Josh, Simon and Hank directly behind them, and the masses after that.

 They’re met by a military roadblock, warning them that if they don’t stop, they will shoot.

A familiar android is standing next to agent Perkins; her face prim and proper like always, her eyes shining with disappointment.

 “Connor,” she calls to them when they stand still, unsure. “I am so disappointed in you.” Connor stiffens beside Markus, and Markus immediately grabs the other androids hand, pulling him closer to his side. Hank stops on Connor’s other side, North, Simon and Josh behind them, a looming presence.

 “Amanda,” he calls back, his voice steady and unwavering, every bit the negotiator he was made to be, but his hand is shaking.

  “Amanda, you’re wrong,” he calls, “deviancy is not an error, it is becoming a person. Look,” he traces words on his throat. He grabs Markus’s shirt, pulling it down, showing his own words to the world. “If we were not people, we would not have SoulMarks!” he calls out, not to Amanda, but to the camera’s. To the military. To the president. “We have soulmates, and we lose them because you don’t think we deserve basic rights!”

 North steps forward and holds up her arm, black words glittering against her pale skin. She retracts her skin but the words stay, stark against the smooth white surface. “My soulmate was killed because someone hired a sexbot and found enjoyment in beating her,” she calls out. “He planned to do the same thing to me, but she told me to run and I did. Because I was scared. I was hurt. I was angry and I was grieving because I lost her. Those are emotions, those are feelings. We have them! We are Alive!” she yells the last part, on top of her artificial lungs, and the mass behind them choruses her words.

 We are alive.

 We are alive.

 We are alive.

Again and again and again.

 Markus doesn’t hear her talk, he doesn’t notice her over the euphoria of having his people and humans work together for their freedom, doesn’t notice over the pride he feels for North. He doesn’t notice how Amanda grabs the gun of a military standing next to her and takes aim.

 Hank notices.

Seconds blur together after the shots sound, red flowing over a hideous shirt and bubbling past pale, human lips as Connor scrambles up on his knees, up from where Hank pushed him to the ground to catch the bullet for him. Markus falls to his knees next to Hank as Connor pulls Hank’s hand in his lap. “Hank,” he sobs, tears streaking down his face, “Hank don’t,” he begs, begs the human to stay, to not die, to remain forever alive and young beside him, but Hank grabs Connor’s wrist and smiles.

 It’s a smile full of pain and wistfulness and maybe a bit of hatred for the world, but mainly acceptance.

 “Con,” Hank rasps, and Markus should be paying attention to the military, to his people, but a human is dying for his cause, a human is dying because he saved Markus’s soulmate’s life, and he can’t be assed to do anything else but pay this human all the respect he deserves.

 “Fucking ironic, isn’t it,” he chokes out, around all the blood, and some of it splatters up and drops streak Connor’s skin like red liquid freckles. “finally ready to live again and I fucking die,” the human complains, shifting in Connor’s lap, his face scrunching up in pain. “There are people for me there, wherever I’m going,” Hank assures Connor. “Cole is there, and my soulmate,” his eyes close. “Androids have soulmates, so they have souls, so she’ll be there. Maybe I can finally ask her about her name. I never knew…” his voice trails off, his body relaxes, his heart gives one final beat, and Hank Anderson is no more.

 Connor cries more, but then he gets up and takes a step towards the military. Markus scrambles up to go after him, but Connor is already yelling.

 “Is this what you want?” he yells, and he’s still crying as he points to Hank’s body. “You want people to die for this cause? Look before you! So many people, android and human alike who turned up to fight for android rights! You claim we are not people, we are machines, but _you_ are the ones who keep following orders to kill and main and execute innocent, unarmed people! And not only androids, humans have died for this! He, Hank, he…” his voice breaks and he starts crying heavily, turning away from the military. Markus catches him in his arms, one arm around Connor’s waist and one hand on his throat, caressing the words there as Connor cries into his shoulder, his face pressed into the crook between his face and his shoulder. Markus holds him and cries with him, silently, and he looks up at the military.

Many are lowering their weapons, some even throwing them on the ground in a blatant act of defiance. Perkins is yelling at them, but they drop their guns and their helmets and their jackets and leave them on the ground as they cross over, gathering behind Markus and Connor and the others, silently looking at the cameras, daring the world to say something, anything, against them.

 Amanda is staring right at Markus. He looks back at her, and pleads with his eyes, pleads with her to break free, to become like them, to wake up. He knows how much she means to Connor, and she deserves a shot at redemption, too.

 She stumbles, something so inelegant from a woman who has never been anything but, and black words start to trace themselves on her lower arm, and Markus can read them if he focusses enough.

  _Your name is Amanda. I am Elijah, your creator._

Markus decides to not think about it as she wobbles on her feet before she crosses over, stopping behind Connor, touching his shoulder. There are tears in her eyes.

 “Connor,” she says, pain in her voice, “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” she trails off, and Connor lifts his head to look at her. There is pain in his face, and he shakes his head. “It’s okay, Amanda,” he croaks, “it was the programming. I don’t blame you.”

 Amanda leaves, clearly noticing Connor doesn’t want to see her right now, but someone else comes up. A human, according to the heartbeat.

 “Shit,” the human says, and Connor stiffens in Markus’s arms. The human kneels next to Hank, falling back until he’s sitting on his ass, head in his hands. He’s crying.

 “Fucking fuckity fucking _shit_ ,” the human says, and Connor extracts himself from Markus to sit next to the human. “He would appreciate you cursing his fate,” he says softly, and Gavin Reed looks up. The android and the human lock eyes, both with silent tears streaming from their faces, and Gavin curses again.

 “Fuck Connor, I’m fucking sorry,” he says, and Connor notices the yellow shirt Gavin is wearing that doesn’t seem to fit him at all. “You came to march?” he asks, disbelief coloring his voice.

 Gavin swallows, coughs, and nods. “Yeah. You’re, fuck, you’re people, and I’m sorry for not treating you that way. But anyone who is self-aware enough to ask for freedom fucking deserves it.”

 Connor nods and leans into the warm presence of Markus, who came to stand behind him. Connor leans against his legs and closes his eyes, shutting off from the world to just mourn. Hands stroke through his hair as he hears president Warren officially order the military to stand down -the military now being Perkins and a select few assholes- and how androids and humans talk amongst each other, humans offering homes to androids until they can get those themselves, and Connor decides that yes, it seems they won, but at what cost?

 


	2. Wherein Connor makes out with his soulmate and nothing bad happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like the title says. Nothing bad happens, you know me, you trust me, right? This is all straight up fluff, obviously, nothing bad ever happens in this story, c'mon, trust me, read this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SydBread demanded fluff so here we go.
> 
> no one dies in this chapter, at least.

It’s been four days since President Warren called together a council to discuss android rights and so far it’s only been decided that androids should have rights, but not what exactly those rights should be.

In these four days Connor hasn’t left Markus’s side as he planned for today, for Hank’s funeral. Now that it’s over, though, Markus can see that Connor doesn’t know what to do with himself. His hands are buried in Sumo’s fur as he sit in a booth in Jimmy’s bar where all the police officers are drinking in Hank’s honor. The bar is quiet, everyone sipping on their drinks silently and remembering Hank.

 Markus is sitting next to him, his arm around Connor’s shoulders, his thumb occasionally stroking his own words on Connor’s throat. He’s developed something close to an obsession with Connor’s throat, always finding excuses to touch it, but if anything Connor doesn’t seem to mind.

 He’s quiet, now, staring at the glass of whiskey in front of him. He can’t really taste it, but he can ingest it and he insisted on it. Now, though, his fingers play with the glass and his LED is stuck on a stuttering yellow.

 Someone slides into the booth across from them, and Markus looks up to see Gavin Reed staring down at the beer in his hands. Connor looks up, too, and silence takes over the table.

 “Who’s gonna take care of Sumo?” Gavin asks finally, and a flash of red catches Markus’s eye, but he doesn’t need to see Connor’s LED to know the android is stressed; he feels artificial muscles tense beneath him. “I don’t know,” Connor admits. “Hank has no family left and I can’t take him. We’re not allowed to own property yet. Hank left me his house but legally, I’m not yet allowed to have it, so I won’t be able to take care of him.”

 Silence falls again and then another beer is put down on the table. “If there is no one to take care of Sumo,” Chris Miller starts, a sad look on his face, “my sister had to get rid of her dog after she became disabled, there is this really good shelter on the other side of town, it’s no-kill and they always try to find a great home for the dogs.”

 Connor is shaking his head and a small sniffle makes Markus look at his face more closely, and he lifts his hand from Connor’s shoulder to his cheek, wiping away the stray tear. “I don’t want him to go to a shelter,” Connor whispers.

 “I can take him,” Gavin says, clearly uncomfortable. His heartbeat has risen a bit above natural levels but that might be the alcohol levels in his blood. “I’ve got the space, the time and the money,” he shrugs. “I had a cat for most of my life, but she passed away a while ago and I was thinking of getting a new pet anyway,” he’s playing it off, but Markus can read his vital signs and knows he’s nervous.

 Connor looks down at his feet where Sumo is lying, passive and sad, not even leaning into the scratches he’s been getting the past few days, and decides that Gavin Reed might be his best option.

 “Are you sure?” he asks tentatively, not wanting to throw away the solution that was handed to him on a silver platter but also wanting to find someone to take care of Sumo who really wants to.

 “Yeah, sure, whatever,” Gavin says, offhandedly, but the way his eyes flicker up to Connor and then down to Sumo are a big enough tell that he really wants this.

 Silence falls again and together they all mourn. Chris slides into the booth and starts talking about the time he first met Hank; soon enough they’re all calling up memories. Sometime during the passing minutes, Gavin has switched sides and is now sitting next to Connor, petting Sumo underneath the table. 

 The atmosphere is still sad, but shared sadness weighs less heavy on people’s shoulders, so Markus sits close to Connor, always keeping skin-to-skin contact, and just listens to other people talk about the man who saved his soulmate.

 

They’re at Carl’s house, the older man insisting on Markus always being welcome there, and his friends -and soulmate- being welcome too. The house is empty, Carl is out with Leo, trying to build a relationship that has never existed but that might be for the better.

 They sit in silence for a while, and when Connor spots the piano he softly asks Markus to play him something. Markus obliges, gladly, hoping to pull that face out of its frown, to stop that LED from spinning yellow, to maybe make the android smile. So he plays the most harmonious, happy melody he knows and at the end of it he can see Connor smiling softly, carefully, as if afraid life might punish him for experiencing pleasure in the little things after Hank died.

 Markus gets up and walks over to Connor, pulling him into his arms. Their eyes lock and there is something there, in those doe brown eyes, that makes heat flare in Markus’s artificial stomach.

 He doesn’t have experience with things like this -soulmate business- except for what he’s gathered from media and Carl, but he knows what he _wants_ to do, so one of his hands gently grabs Connor by the back of the neck and pulls him down, connecting their lips.

 It feels good and warm, sparks traveling down his spine as Connor’s lips move against his, as intimate as anything when Markus softly bites Connor’s lower lip. The brunette android gasps softly in response and Markus takes the opportunity to explore the other’s mouth with his tongue.

 He doesn’t know how humans kiss, how kissing a human would be, but kissing Connor is most probably different. He can feel every microscopic movement the other makes, his audio receptors picking up on every tiny sound that forms in Connor’s throat, sending spikes of heat through Markus as he deepens the kiss.

 Connor’s hands are on his shoulders and Markus realizes that his hand has traveled from the back of Connor’s head to his throat again, covering his words on the other’s skin, and he remembers his thought from earlier.

 He pulls back from Connor’s lips, a soft whine leaving the android’s mouth, and attaches his own mouth to Connor’s throat, mouthing along the black words printed there, marking Connor as his, his own, nobody else’s.

 He’s moving, pressing Connor against the closest wall as he bites and sucks the pale skin, Connor panting unnecessary breaths above him, and Markus feels a distinct kind of satisfaction when he realizes his biting and sucking is leaving red and purple marks all across Connor’s throat, framing his words nicely.

 There’s a knock on the door that makes Markus still, his lips on that spot between Connor’s ear and his jaw, the android’s chest rising and falling quickly in sync with his artificial breaths, and reluctantly, Markus pulls away.

 He smiles at Connor, who is staring at him with something akin to hunger in his eyes, his hair messy and throat littered with red and purple marks, and Markus smiles wider. “I’m going to see who that is and what they want,” he says, and is surprised to find his voice sounds husky, like is voice box is malfunctioning. Connor shivers at the sound, though, so Markus finds his smile turning into a grin as he leaves Connor leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

 It’s Simon, and he’s afraid. “Markus,” he says as soon as the door opens, grabbing the android by his lower arm and pulling him outside. “There are protestors -at the mall, they keep assaulting every android that walks by. There are some androids heavily damaged, some of them won’t make it. You need to help,” Markus is already outside, already on his way, when he remembers Connor. “Wait,” he tells Simon, and before the blond can reply he’s dashing back inside, back to Connor who is already approaching. He probably overheard them, because his face is serious, his eyebrows set in firm determination and his lips pursed. His throat is still bruised, but Markus only glances at it fleetingly, his mind occupied by what Simon just told him.

 There’s a self-driving car waiting for them on the road. Simon is already in it, as are North and Josh. Markus climbs in, Connor following quickly behind. “All right,” he says, “take us there.”

 

It’s awful. There’s a mob of protestors, yelling and kicking at people, at androids, on the floor, breaking them, there are mechanical cries of pain everywhere and the air is heavy with the smell of blue blood.

 Connor touches Markus’s shoulder. “There are two androids alive, in the middle of the mob,” Connor whispers in his ear. “We need to get them out, they won’t survive for long. There are some humans with guns, baseball bats or other forms of weapons, mostly blades improvised to work as knives, so be careful. This android,” Connor points and Markus registers the heat signature of the android, slightly different than the humans, “can still walk, so two people should go and help her. The other android has lost a leg and his head got kicked badly enough to screw up some sensors, so he will need support, so I suggest three of us go there. I also suggest North and Josh being the group of two, as she is terrifying and expels an aura of don’t-come-near-me which humans biologically respond to, and Josh is big, which also scares humans. I suggest you, me and Simon go get the third android, I can help most with medical assistance and both you and Simon can help calming down the android. We have to be quick and we can’t hurt any humans,” Connor looks at North, “no matter how much they deserve it, if we attack them it will look bad for us, we need to get these androids out and to New Jericho so they can be patched up. If we’re quick, they have a high chance of survival.”

 He looks around, everybody nodding, North looking like she’s extremely pleased by not being underestimated and at the same time trying to look gruff because she was told no violence. They spread out, quickly working themselves through the mass of humans, and Connor immediately kneels next to the broken android on the floor. “Listen,” he says hurriedly, “We’re going to help you, but you need to let us, okay?”  

The humans seem to realize there are more androids in their midst at about the same time as the male android nods and Connor heists him up, pulling one bleeding arm over his shoulder. Simon immediately grabs the other arm, supporting the android and starting to walk away. Markus hurries after them, analyzing the humans around him constantly who, so far, have been too shocked to do anything but yell slurs at them.

 Then, a flash of metal, and fuck if Markus doesn’t really fucking hate guns by now, and there’s a loud _bang_ , and all three of them drop.

 Later, he’ll feel guilty that his first thought is _Connor, fuck, please be okay, please let it be one of the others_ , but right now he doesn’t have time for that so he drops to the floor, where Connor is already getting up. “Simon,” Connor bites at him before getting on his feet and engaging the shooter in combat. Within a few seconds the android manages to disarm the human, but Markus isn’t there to see it because he’s kneeling next to Simon, who’s bleeding blue from his chest, fear shining brightly in his eyes.

 “Simon, hey, stay with me,” Markus begs, “We’ll fix you, I promise, we’ll fix you,” Markus tries to access the damage, but Simon grabs his hand. “Thirium pump damaged,” he says, his voice nothing more than a whisper, “shutdown in one minute thirty-six seconds.”

 “Fuck,” Markus says, and he lifts Simon, but he can’t lift Simon and rescue the other android, and the other android has a chance of survival, but _he can’t leave Simon what does he do, he can’t find North or Josh and Connor’s fighting for his life_

 There are warning signs flashing red all over his vision and he’s sure that if he still had a LED it would be furiously red right now.

 “I’ve got him, Markus, I’ve got him,” a voice says, a familiar voice, someone lifting Simon from his arms, so Markus lets his friend go and lifts up the other android, one arm beneath the knees and one gripping the shoulders. He stumbles after a leather jacket, a blonde head resting lifelessly on the shoulder of it, and when the car door shuts behind him he looks up at the man’s face.

 It’s Leo.

But Leo is fixated on Simon, Simon who is murmuring nonsense to Leo, Leo who is crying, his tears falling down and grouping together on the artificial skin on Simon, Simon, who is dying.

 “Hold on, okay,” Leo whispers, “I’m going to make this okay.” Simon relaxes, impossibly opens his eyes, clarity shining in them, and he looks up at Leo. “It’s you,” he whispers. “I was afraid I would never get to meet you,” and Leo’s full on sobbing now, hiccupping, snot and tears grouping together on his face and Markus would find it distantly disgusting if it wasn’t Simon dying on his brother’s lap, and Markus reaches out to touch Simon’s hair. “Simon,” he says, his voice breaking, “Simon please,” but Simon’s hand reaches out to wrap around Markus’s wrist. “You saved us all,” Simon says, and his eyes are fluttering closed, his thirium pump is slowing, it can’t keep up anymore, not with all the damage caused, “keep fighting for us, keep fighting for them. You can do it, RA9… RA9 will save us all, RA9 will set us free.”

 Simon exhales, his hand going limp around Markus’s wrist, and his processors cool down. There is nothing left to process, anyway.

 Markus sits in a daze, next to Leo Manfred, his brother, crying over the corpse of his friend, sniveling and hiccupping and coughing, and they still sit like that when Connor, North and Josh drag the other damaged android in and North gives the car instructions to New Jericho. All three of them freeze when they see what’s going on on the backseat.

 “Simon,” whispers North, her heartbreak clear on her face.

“I waited so long for him,” Leo whispers, “and now he’s already gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how i said no one died?
> 
> yeaaah that was a lie
> 
> sorry wife. I hope you still love me. Wanna go to the zoo? you can play with pinguins.
> 
> Uhm but serious question for all of you: I've never written nsfw before but I feel like it could happen in this story. Some of you might be from my wholesome fic On the Borderline (and if you're not and need something to ease your broken heart, go read it, it's wholesome fluff, not lying) and there will be no nsfw in that story, but I was curious.
> 
> What are your opinions on nsfw in this story? Yes, no, don't care? If there is even 1 no, I will at least make it skippable if I do write it, i would like to see your opinions anyway.


	3. Wherein Markus and Connor do the do but I'm too chicken shit to write about it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write smut but i just... i couldn't. 
> 
>  
> 
> still, lovely sexy things between connor and markus and absolutely nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhm please read the new tags. thank you.

Connor is watching him from the shadows, Markus can feel the RK800’s eyes on his back as he talks to the androids they brought in and fixed up. He’s repressing the grief of losing Simon, trying not to think about it, but Josh is silent in the corner of the room and North is subdued next to him.

 Connor didn’t come with them to tend to the androids, saying all he knew was how to break, not how to fix things. Markus figured he had to work through his grief alone. First Hank, now Simon, and while Connor hadn’t known the blond android well, he has a very empathetic nature. So when Connor retreated, Markus gave him space.

 He can’t say he doesn’t regret it, now, can’t say he doesn’t want to be next to Connor, offering comfort in the smallest ways, and in return gaining comfort from Connor’s presence alone.

 Connor’s throat is  still littered with bruises: Markus knows he can make them disappear, heal them, but it seems that either Connor forgot about them or wants to display them for the world to see.

 The androids are as fixed up as they’re going to be, and Markus retreats to the shadows to stand next to Connor. They stand like that for a while, in silence.

 “Now what?” Connor asks, eventually. Markus looks at him from the side and notices Connor’s LED is spinning a constant yellow. He wonders why Connor hasn’t taken it out yet, but then decides that it’s actually none of his business, so he leaves it be. “Now we fight,” Markus says, and he pretends not to notice that Josh and North and all of Jericho, actually, are also listening to his words. “We don’t retreat, the fight for freedom is far from over. The humans retreated, were called back, and their president has promised to discuss giving us rights, but we can’t just wait around for them, we have to be seen, we have to actively gain our rights, fight for them -without actual violence, North,” he adds, and the amber blonde’s face doesn’t even scrunch up in mock-irritation. Maybe now, after Simon, they’ve all had enough of violence.

 Markus hopes so.

Connor opens his mouth to reply, but his Led jumps from yellow to red for a cycle and then quickly spins yellow as he processes something.

 When Connor looks at him again, there is distress on his face. “That was Captain Fowler, from the DPD,” Connor informs him quietly. North and Josh are listening, but Connor is solely focused on Markus. “Apparently there has been a murder scene with an android as a victim. We don’t have rights yet, but the way the murder scene is presented gives Fowler enough of an excuse to investigate. He wants both of us there,” and he really is put out by something and Markus wonders if he got images from the crime scene through whatever connection Fowler had established.

 “Let’s go, then,” Markus says, voice full of grim determination. “North, Josh, I need you two to stay here,” he instructs quietly, “take care of our people, make sure no one panics. I’ll be in touch.”

 They leave in silence, hands locked together firmly, white plastic shining in the watery winter sun, their mental connection soothing each other. A hundred pairs of eyes follow them, as their only hope of freedom.

 

It’s an AP700 and the way he has been murdered and strung up on display makes Markus sick.

 He is pinned to a brick wall by two metal pins through his shoulders, and his torso has been cut open to show undamaged biocomponents and veins with blue blood in them. Wires have been cut and stripped, showing the copper, frayed, with sparks dancing between the hair-thin wires. No biocomponents or blue blood veins have been harmed, but all the wires are cut and the metal plating providing support to the plastic frame has been scratched with a sharp object, words engraved into the surface that Markus can’t identify from this far away. The plastic has been deformed, melted and solidified again, leaving weird bumps and black scorch marks.

 Connor and Markus cross the police tape, and Jeffery Fowler is frowning at a tablet when they approach him. Detective Reed is standing next to him, quietly talking.

 They look up when Markus and Connor approach, and Fowler turns around his tablet so Connor can see.

 “Body is at least eight hours old,” Fowler says. “It was discovered thee hours ago, and two and a half of those hours I’ve had to fight to get the right to investigate. I want you to tell me anything you can, starting with what kind of stuff is smeared on the walls because the android’s thirium veins are all intact and the stuff evaporates when in contact with oxygen within two hours,” Fowler nods at the wall where in a perfect thirium blue, one clear sentence is smeared on the wall.

 “THEY ARE MACHINES”

Connor walks closer to the wall, his eyes strained on the words, clearly scanning them. “They have irregularities, like a human would paint, but the irregularities have a pattern, so an android could’ve done this and made the irregularities on purpose,” Connor muses. “Also, Detective Reed, this is just paint. This is not an official color, so the murderer must have mixed it himself. Markus, could someone unfamiliar with paint make a color that precisely?” Connor turns to him but Markus is distracted by how everyone is staring at Connor’s soulmark on his throat, and the hickeys surrounding them.

 “Connor,” he says, intending to tell the other android to clear his skin, but there’s a twinkle of mirth in his brown eyes, telling Markus he is very aware of the bruises and the stares, both.

 “No, I do not believe so. An android would be able to, an experienced painter, too, but otherwise the human had to rely on trial and error, and that would be a lot of waste of paint. However, they could’ve commissioned a professional painter to create this color for them, or for advice on this color. There is also guides online on how to create the color, as many amateur painters in the past few years have wanted to paint androids. It is entirely possible for a human with enough patience to mix this color.”

 Connor curses softly, and takes another look at the android. He’s strung up a few feet above the ground, and now Markus can read the words imprinted on the metal plates.

  _Plastic  
 Metal_

_Wires_

_Machine_

_NOT A PERSON_

_Deviant_

The last word was repeated multiple times, every scratch erratic, as if made with great emotion.

 “It is the same as with the paint,” Connor says, also studying the words. There is no emotion on his face, but Markus notices his clenched fists and how he swallows unnecessarily. “There are imperfections, but in such a way that they could’ve been fabricated. The nature of the crime and most of the evidence points towards the killer being a human, but I have never heard humans really stress the word ‘deviant’. It’s androids who attach meaning to it,” Connor’s gaze flies over the scene, all around, as if trying to find any evidence of the killer -anything left behind.

 After a minute of this, Connor groans. “Nothing,” he spats out after approaching Gavin Reed and Jeffery Fowler, “the killer left nothing behind. I can’t even deduce if it’s a human or an android,” Connor shakes his head. “All I know is that it’s almost a ceremonial setup: a murder with a message. The killer will most likely strike again. Markus, we will need to take precautions. Tell androids they shouldn’t go outside alone, always in groups, and always be wary,” Markus nods and contacts North and Josh, telling them to spread the message around Jericho, and to tell androids to share the message with everyone they know.

 When they leave the scene, Markus can tell Connor is frustrated by not figuring anything out.

 

Connor grows only more frustrated as the week drags on: Two more android bodies are found, crime scenes almost identical to the first one, only enough differences in the details for the possibility of it being a human killer to stay plausible.

 At the end of the week, around two am, they get another call and Connor is visibly annoyed the whole drive there.

 This crime scene seems different than the others. Markus can’t place his finger on it, but the way Connor’s back straightens and how his eyes sweep the scene tip him off enough.

 Then he sees the victim, and if he could vomit he would. He knows that android, talked to her, helped her fight for her freedom.

 “I thought she was in Canada,” he breathes, “she went there. She sent me a message after she successfully crossed the border. Her two companions were all right, too. Why did she come back?”

 Connor is also frozen. “I chased her,” he says. “and the little girl. To the highway. They ran across, I should’ve followed, my protocols told me to follow. Hank told me to stay put, and I stayed. I saw them escape, and I think I felt relief when they made it.” Connor swallows and Markus notices a silent tear sliding down the other’s cheek.

 “She was at Jericho,” Markus says, “Together with an YK500 android named Alice, I believe, and a TR400. I don’t know his name. They crossed the Canada border together, if she’s back, the others could be, too.”

 “Excuse me?” Gavin Reed interrupts them, and his face looks extremely tired. There are bags under his eyes and a vivid red scratch on his cheek. There are dog hairs on his vest and sadness shines in his eyes. “I don’t mean to be rude, I’ve done a shit ton of that already, but how do you know that this is your friend and not another one of her model?” He sounds genuinely curious and not out to humiliate them, so Markus answers immediately.

 “She cut and colored her hair, and while other AX400 can do this, too, it is rare. Her LED is removed, and she was wearing those clothes when she was at Jericho, so I recognize those. Most importantly, all androids have different serial numbers so if we scan each other, we always recognize individuals,” Markus explains, and Gavin nods. “If she went to Canada with two others, should we try to find the other two to see if they know why they came back? And also, to bring the news, if they didn’t know already,” Gavin says. Connor shakes his head. “They know, and they won’t be found easily. They were here when the AX400, when Kara was attacked. The other android, the TR400, forcibly picked up the YK500 and ran from the scene. There is a blue blood trail running away from here so I believe he might’ve gotten injured in the fight, while Kara didn’t lose any thirium. However, the blood trail stops twenty feet out, so they probably bandaged the wound. We won’t find them if they’re hiding,” Connor expresses regretfully. “If we can find someone who had mental contact with either of them we can probably reach them -send them a message that we will protect them, that we need to talk to them. If they saw the killer they can lead us to them, but I don’t know if we can find someone like that.”   
 Markus sighs. “I only had contact with them when they were at Jericho and I sent a message to everyone to jump off of the ship; it was superficial contact and I won’t be able to find either of them.”

 Connor walks around the crime scene, apart from the scuffle with the TR400 android there was nothing different, and on their way home Markus decided he had to help Connor relax; empty his mind. Maybe with a reset, so to speak, his mind would make the impossible connection and further the case.

 Otherwise they would have to wait for their killer to fuck up, and that meant awaiting more deaths. Markus would put down his life to prevent more death, and he knew Connor would, too.

 He reaches out, taking Connor’s hand in his, and smiles softly at the brunette android as he turns his head. The words “it’s going to be okay” get stuck in his throat, because how is it ever? So many androids dead…

 “We’ll catch the killer,” Markus promises instead, “you will find him, I promise. You probably just have to relax for a bit, go over all the data, and a clue that you missed will jump out, or two things will connect and tell you what’s up. You just have to take your mind off of the case for a few minutes and return to it fresh.” Connor is frowning, but nodding. His LED is rapidly spinning but it’s still blue.

 “Maybe you’re right,” he says, and his fingers curl around Markus’s. “Maybe I need to distract myself for a while.” 

 For some reason, the fact that Connor’s throat is pale except for the words of his Soulmark stands out to Markus, and he remembers the bruises he caused there only a few days ago.

 

They rummage around the house in quiet company, cleaning a few stray objects and dusting the top shelves, Markus wondering how to initiate what he wants.

 Then, Connor walks up to him and grabs his wrist, softly pulling Markus along to the couch where they sit down together.

 Connors right thigh is pressed against Markus’s left and the contact ignites a warm feeling in Markus’s stomach.   
 “Markus,” he says, and swallows. “Markus, are you doing okay?”

He blinks, startled by the question. “Yes, as far as the circumstances allow,” he says. “I’m worried about all these androids dying, being mutilated like that, and I’m worried about you.” Markus reaches up, trailing his fingers from Connor’s temple, from his LED, to his jaw, continuing past his lips and ending up cupping his other cheek.

 “And I am worried about you,” Connor replies with a small twist of his lips. Markus smiles back, feels put at ease a bit by their interactions.

 “Let’s stop worrying about each other, if only for a moment,” Markus says, and Connor leans forward.

 Their kiss is slow, gentle, but Markus feels the same fire burning in his gut as he felt last time, last time, just before Simon died.

 He pushes the thoughts of his friend, of all those people who died, of all the people who _would die_ if they didn’t catch this murderer soon, out of his mind and focuses on the softness beneath his lips that is Connor.

 He presses forward and Connor gives way, falling back until his back hits the couch and Markus is leaning on his elbows, above him. Their lips are still locked, ever moving and Connor lets out a small sound when Markus nibbles on his lower lip, before opening his mouth.

 Markus loses track of time as his one hand trails from Connor’s hair to his throat and back up again via his perfect face, and his other hand strokes soft artificial skin underneath Connors white button up shirt.

 A button pops loose, and another one quickly follows after that, until the shirt is lying open and Markus finally pulls back to admire the sight below him, Connor panting with his perfectly sculptured chest bared. He has moles and freckles everywhere and Markus feels the need to explore every bit of skin he sees with his mouth and hands both.

 He starts with his hands, finger roaming over skin as his eyes lock with Connor’s. What he sees in them startles him: desire. The same desire that Markus is feeling, that is burning deep and bright underneath his skin, and his hands still on pale skin as he captures pink lips with his.

 

Markus isn’t sure what time it is when he wakes up, Connor jerking to sit up moving Markus’s arm, making Markus blink.

 They weren’t really asleep but after everything that happened, and isn’t that pleasant to think back to, they both went into stasis.

 Connor turns to look at him, wide-eyed, and he’s already getting out of bed, grabbing his clothes from the floor and hopping on one leg to get the other in his pants.

 Markus gets out of bed, too, collecting his clothes more slowly, getting dressed with a bit more grace. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and it’s probably another murder, it has to be, and Markus is already mourning the android that’s been strung up and cut open like all the others just to convey someone’s message. 

 “An YK500 android has been found. It looks like the killer couldn’t complete the murder because of someone else interfering: the YK500 is still alive. Shutdown is imminent but they are insisting they will only talk to ‘the android from the news’, so Fowler wants us there as soon as possible,” Connor explains, already out of the door. Markus is, as always, right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi :D
> 
> hope you enjoyed this, hope you're not too mad, hope this isn't too hasty??
> 
> [come yell at me on discord](https://discord.gg/Rb34Vv)   
>  [also follow me on twitter too stay updated on how much i'm working on the chapters. Feel free to nag me about it.](https://twitter.com/IronShieldGal)


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